Salvesen and Thomson reflect on Leg 1 of PGOR

by Jeremy Salvesen and David Thomson on 22 Nov 2008
Jeremy Salvesen and David Thomson reflect on Leg 1 of the Portimao Global Ocean Race.

After nearly a year of dreaming, planning and training we are finally at the start day in Portimão surrounded by friends and family. Final preparations are underway, the electrician is still on board but we are nearly ready for the off.

Saying goodbye on the dock is harder than either of could ever have imagined and tears flow freely. We have organised a junk to take everyone to the start line but we are joined on board by Jeremy's three boys until the last minute when they will be taken off by RIB. This was going to be a tough journey not only for the two skippers but for all those they love too. It will be a long hard nine months before we are able to see most of them again.

We are now nearly at the end of the first leg down to Cape Town. It has of course been a journey of many firsts - for both of us. Jeremy had never crossed an ocean before, now he has crossed both the North and South Atlantic. Jeremy had never been at sea for more than about 10 days, David not more than 30. Both of us have dipped our toes into the famous Southern Oceans where we will spend the next few months.

Like all of these things there have been the highs and the lows, the ups and the downs but there is no doubt that we both feel as if we have come out on a high with a great achievement under our belts. The first few days were beset by instrument failure and this undoubtedly cost us dear in terms of competitiveness - we had to hand steer by the seat of our pants with no data on wind angles or boat speeds. At the same time, our navigation software was on the blink and we had very limited chart data. We were at the back of the fleet, tired and frustrated. For a moment we even seriously considered turning back to Portimao for repairs.

As soon as the instruments were up and running again, we were beset by what proved to be the lightest winds of our race. Now that we had the data, all it could tell us was we were drifting in circles! Soon however it picked up again and we were headed once again to the Canaries and for the first time really had the opportunity to consider tactics. Normal routing is through the middle of the island group but the weather was suggesting a possible easterly course and a couple of the boats in the Volvo Race had made some gains on their fleet in the last couple of days by going this way. Rightly or wrongly, we decided to hedge our bets for a couple of days and take a route which would leave either option open to us.
We were pushing hard with strong winds, full main and fractional kite, hitting 20 knots and Oh Yes! we were riding that Crest of the Wave.. Bang! Our over enthusiasm and excitement had cost us dear and we we now faced the rest of the leg with a shredded fractional spinnaker - something we would seriously regret later in the race. Still we ploughed south. East or West? The lead boats, Beluga and Cape Horn had taken the westerly route and we thought we may be able to take advantage with the alternative route. You don't win this game by following your leaders. The forecast was looking good, the satellite images favourable but is was all a fine balance and we were still hedging our bets. Late night phone calls to Chris Tibbs, our weather router and to Alex Thomson, David's brother, convinced us to go west - until the last minute when the latest weather showed a shift. We had lost some miles and ended up following the fleet through the islands.

We were still very limited on electronic navigation charts and now had to dig out the paper charts we never thought we would need and plot our course the old fashioned way. At this point we still didn't know that the main navigation instruments hadn't been calibrated properly with the GPS system - one was reading to magnetic compass and the other to true. The difference at home was just too small to be noticed. In Northern Europe the magnetic variation is below 3 degrees, in the Canaries it is a little over 6 (and in the South Atlantic over 25). Jeremy at the chart table making the calculations and passing instructions to the helm with adjusted course headings as we passed by the small outlying northerly islands of the group and still we were heading closer and closer to land. The charts were of quite a large scale and it soon became apparent that not all of those rocky little islands showed up on the chart as they loomed out of the murky misty night just a little too close for comfort.

Southward through the islands, keeping well off shore - always a little too far for that cherished mobile phone signal that would have enabled us to make that looked forward to call home. Fair winds and making some ground on the guys in front and starting to edge ahead of Kazimir who were taking a more westerly approach. The days were long and gloriously hot as we flew between Gran Canaria and Tenerife being wary of the looming wind shadow these mountainous islands cast to the south. In the middle there is a wind acceleration zone - fall off that and you find yourself in the shadow.

Heading south towards the Cape Verde Islands we opted for routing closer to the coast of Africa where the wind blows steady off the coast so long as you are not too close to the shore and find the wind dying on you through the night. We were about 60 miles off the coast of Mauritania with Jeremy on the helm at about 6am when he spotted a fishing boat - we hadn't seen any boats for days so this was a welcome confirmation of life out there! As the hours ticked past however it became clear that he wasn't fishing and that he was keeping track with us - and that track was getting closer and closer. By the time he was half a mile off to our port side, Jeremy was becoming decidedly nervous and woke David. We knew this part of the African coast had something of a reputation for piracy and we didn't know what these guys were up to. They continued to follow us, coming to a point directly behind us only about 250 metres away. We prepared our box of flares - our only means of self defence - and alerted the race organisers of our concerns and of our position. Josh was concerned but helpless. He suggested we gybe away from the coast but the 'pirates' had now moved to our starboard side effectively blocking that move. In some ways we also didn't want to appear to be running from them and possibly alerting them to our concerns. They never moved any closer but they were still there and this is after some four or five hours. What if they did make a move, what if they had called up some of their mates, what if, what if?? Just keep on sailing. Eventually they drifted off further and further until they were blessedly out of sight and we could relax once more. They did reappear again late in the afternoon on the horizon and again we worried that they would perhaps make their move at night .. but they soon disappeared and we could just put it all down to experience!

Still, to the Cape Verdes and routing choices to be made. Head to the west or again through the islands. We were conscious that getting west between this point and the dreaded doldrums was going to be the big issue but still routing to the east looked tempting even though the leaders had gone much further to the west. The wind was just about right for us to be able to sail deep, just to the east and then to gybe across. Except for the last minute shift that is and we ended up cutting through the group on much the same tracking as the others. A few more miles lost and the leaders were now some 400 miles ahead and the gap was growing by the day.

The tradewinds were blowing steadily and we were making good ground south but not enough to the west - we just can't sail dead down wind and the other gybe would put us on a slightly northerly heading which of course you are loathe to do. So, running as deep as you dare while keeping boat speed up as high as you can and going whe